A train in the night

I am tired of holding.
my arm aches like my heart
cause this space
is only filled with dust.
I await the night
for Morpheus to do his part,
pick me at his pace,
as in him I lay my trust.
tears only drown me
while I sip potions of clouds,
high as I may be
waking up is an aching must.
Nightmares are in the daydream cart.
even the sun now has a face.
Ruddapoet
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